The Heart Of A Hero

The schoolyard was empty when they got there, the small, one-room school building quiet. Red with white trim, it sat sedately among tall oaks and elms, an even lawn surrounding it, and several wooden tables and benches at the side. Jess’s stomach tightened and he pushed the image of his sister from his thoughts.

“Mrs. Wakefield must have started class already.” Maggie looked up at Jess. “I’ve never been late for school before. Am I going to be in trouble?”

“No, honey. You’re with me. It’s okay.” He gave her hand a little squeeze. The day he couldn’t handle a schoolmarm was the day he’d call it quits for good.

Jess pushed open the door and strode inside. The students, seated in neat rows of desks, turned and stared. Mrs. Wakefield stood at the head of the class. She looked up at Jess, folded her hands in front of her, and gave him a look that froze him to the floor.

“Mr. Logan.”

It was not a question or a greeting, but a reprimand, plain and simple.

Jess fidgeted, suddenly feeling as if he were a student in the little schoolhouse again. “Sorry we’re late,” he mumbled.

Her frosty glare warmed not one iota. “Maggie, you may take your seat.”

Maggie gave Jess a little smile and went to her desk; Jess winked at her.

In the back of the room, an older boy laughed. “Hey, it’s not like he robbed the bank or anything.”

The students giggled.

“That’s enough, Luke,” Sarah said.

Jess glanced at the boy in the desk near him, a scrawny-looking kid, maybe fifteen; he was grateful that icy stare of Sarah Wakefield’s was focused on someone else.

Warming to the attention of the students, Luke laughed again. “Maybe we should get the sheriff over here, have them locked up.”

Sarah’s gaze turned sterner. “Luke, I said that will do.”

The boy threw his head back and laughed. “Or maybe—”

Jess reached down and grabbed the boy by the shirtfront. He hauled him out of his seat and leaned down until they were nose to nose. “The teacher told you to shut your mouth.”

The boy’s eyes rounded and he pulled back.

Jess gave him a shake. “Understand?”

Luke gulped. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.” Jess released him and he clattered into his desk. He hadn’t yelled at anyone in a long time; it felt good.

A startled hush fell over the classroom and all the students shrank back, their eyes wide, mouths gaping. Jess suddenly felt like a brute, towering over the children. He shifted uncomfortably, gave a curt nod to Sarah and strode out of the school.

“Feel that chill?” Jess mumbled to Jimmy as they walked down the steps. “That woman can lay down a blanket of ice quicker than Jack Frost.”

The child remained silent, so Jess was startled when someone called his name. He spun around and saw Sarah on the steps of the schoolhouse, glaring down at him.

“Mr. Logan, in the future, I will thank you to keep to yourself when in my classroom.”

She was all drawn up like a banjo string ready to pop, glaring at him as if he were one of her disobedient students. He’d expected a kind word for shutting up that kid, or at least a thank-you, but not this.

“Is that so?”

Her chin crept up a little. “I will not have you undermining my authority, Mr. Logan. Is that clear?”

Lordy, she was a pretty thing, all puffed up and full of vinegar. She stood straight and tall, her ample bosom rounded against the hundred little buttons up the front of her dress. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a bun, but stray wisps curled around her face. Her dark eyes sparked with fire.

Jess shook his head. What was he thinking? She was the schoolmarm, for God’s sake.

“The boy was shooting off his mouth. I wasn’t going to stand there and put up with it.”

She folded her arms under her breasts. “I will handle situations like that, Mr. Logan.”

“I didn’t see you handling anything, Mrs. Wakefield.”

“Perhaps if you hadn’t interfered, you would have.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, pardon me all to hell.”

Color rose in her cheeks and he saw the quick intake of her breath as she clamped her mouth closed. But instead of feeling pleased that he’d shut her up, he was embarrassed by his foul language.

“Look, Mrs. Wakefield, I—”

She turned on her heels but stopped at the door and looked back at him. “You have jam on your face.”

Jess felt his cheeks pinken as she disappeared into the school. He dragged his hand over his chin and looked down at Jimmy. “Thanks a lot, partner.”

The boy just stared up at him.

“Come on.” They headed home.

After getting cleaned up and having breakfast, Jess headed for town, Jimmy at his side. He’d put it off as long as he could, but now his shelves were too bare to delay another day.

The late morning sun shone brightly on the hills in the distance, turning them greener than expected, thanks to the spring rains. Jess tried to look at them, tried looking at the sky too, but eventually had to turn his attention to the houses they passed.

His heart rose in his throat. God, it had been a long time since he’d walked down this road.

Cassie came into his mind, and recollections of the two of them running, playing with friends filled his head. Growing up here—the early years, at least—had been magical. He’d done most of his mourning on the trail getting here, but still it hurt, being here, thinking of her. Cassie, gone. His only relative in the world.

Except now for these two kids. Jess looked down at Jimmy skipping along beside him and he forced down the swell of emotion. He’d gotten over the other deaths. He’d get over this one, too.

They passed the schoolhouse as the road curved slowly toward the west. Across from the school squatted a tumble-down shack and Jess wondered why somebody didn’t just tear the thing down; it didn’t look inhabitable. On the other side of the road stood the church and a nice house, both with tended lawns.

“They’re new,” Jess said to Jimmy. “In fact, all of this is new. It was all farmland back when I lived here.”

Jimmy looked up at him for a second, then gazed off at the house.

“That was a long time ago. Before you were born. Me and your mama used to play here.”

Jimmy stopped suddenly and his bottom lip poked out. Jess knelt and pushed his Stetson back on his head.

“It’s okay if we talk about her. I know you miss her.”

Jimmy jerked away and ran ahead of him. Slowly, Jess got to his feet. His heart ached, sharing the pain the boy felt. He just wished he knew how to help him.

Jess pulled his Stetson lower on his forehead and followed the boy into town.

The place had grown, Jess realized as he stepped up onto the boardwalk. Lots of new businesses had cropped up. The streets were full of horses, wagons and people, all looking prosperous. He gazed around until he finally spotted something familiar. Jess crossed the street to the Walker Mercantile.

The bell jingled over the door as he stepped inside. Jimmy ran in ahead of him. All sorts of merchandise filled the shelves, the pickle barrel stood by the door, and cane-bottom chairs that had seen better days surrounded the potbellied stove in the corner. Behind the counter was an array of teas, coffees and tins.

Cautiously, Jess surveyed the store. The merchant was tallying an order for another customer, and Jess’s tension eased a bit when he recognized the customer as Rory Garrette. At least he knew one friendly face in Walker.

“Morning, Mr. Garrette.”

The older man leaned on his cane and squinted up at him. “Jess, where you been, boy? I thought you’d left town again already.”

Before he could answer, the merchant looked up.

“Jess Logan?”

A moment ticked by before Jess recognized the man in the apron. Years had creased his face and peppered his dark hair with gray, but there was no mistaking that distinctive voice, deep and strong.

“Leo Turner.” Jess said, and nodded, unsure of the welcome he’d get here—or anywhere in Walker. “Good to see you again.” He offered his hand and they shook.

“Last I heard, you’d died in a Mexican prison. Good to see you, too. Sorry to hear about your sister.”

“Thank you.”

“Jimmy?” Leo took a licorice from the glass jar beside him and held it up. “Want one?”

The boy scampered over and Jess lifted him onto the counter. He took the candy and bit into it.

Leo chuckled. “That boy loves sweets.”

Rory offered a gap-tooth smile. “Who don’t?”

“Cassie used to bring him in with her every Saturday, you know, give him licorice if he was quiet while she shopped.”

“He’s not talking much these days,” Jess said. “Maybe this will do the trick.”

“Bribing the child into talking? I should hope not.” A woman breezed in through the curtain from the back room and stared disapprovingly at the men. “Leo, I think you’d know better.”

“Now, Emma, honey,” Leo said, “we’re not hurting anything.”

Efficiently she straightened the counter beside Leo and gave Jess a glance. “You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, young man.”

Memories stabbed him like a knife, Leo’s wife looking at him in that way, using that tone of voice, those exact words so many years ago. Years had changed her looks, but that was all.

Jess nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Your sister was a treasure in this town. We’ll miss her.” Emma brushed the countertop with a linen cloth.

Rory coughed and sagged against his cane. “What about you coming over to the house and sit a spell, boy? Have supper with us?”

He could imagine the look on Alma Garrette’s face, seeing him walk into her parlor and sit down at her dining-room table. “Can’t today. Some other time.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, boy.”

The bell jingled as . the door opened again. Leo waved. “Morning, Sheriff.”

Rory’s lip curled down. “Horse’s ass,” he muttered.

“Morning Leo, Emma.” The sheriff sauntered to the counter, hung his thumbs in his gun belt and reared back, giving Jess the once-over. His lips curled down. “I know who you are, Logan.” .

Jess’s back stiffened. He hadn’t especially liked Sheriff Buck Neville when he’d first arrived in town and asked about his sister’s children. Now, looking at the stocky, muscular man with the tin badge pinned to his vest, he liked him even less. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.” Sheriff Neville leaned forward, crowding Jess. “I know about you. I know about what you did over in Kingston.”

Jess felt every gaze in the room bore into him; apparently everybody knew about Kingston. Jess’s gut tightened but he didn’t flinch.

“I run a clean town here. I don’t like your kind hanging around. You so much as spit wrong, Logan, and I’ll throw your ass in jail so fast you. won’t know what hit you.” Sheriff Neville jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you forget it.”

He left the store and slammed the door behind him.

A long awkward moment dragged by before Leo spoke. “Don’t pay him no mind, Jess.”

Rory squirted a wad into the spittoon. “Mighty uppity for a lawman in a sleepy little town like Walker.”

“Well, I think Sheriff Neville is doing a fine job,” Emma declared. “I don’t know where you could find a better lawman.”

Rory waved away her comment. “He thinks he’s some big-time sheriff, stopping train robberies and rounding up gangs. Just like—what’s his name? That lawman in them dime novels. Who is it, Leo?”

Leo laughed. “Oh, yeah, I know who you mean. He thinks he’s Leyton Lawrence.”

“Show him.” Rory pointed at the display of dime novels behind the counter. “Show ol’ Jess.”

“Just got these new ones in yesterday.” Leo took the slender book off the shelf and held it up. “See? Leyton Lawrence, The Legendary Layman.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Rory laughed, then fell into a coughing fit.

“Honestly, you men.” Emma breezed past them. “You’ll all be singing a different tune if the Toliver gang heads this way. You’ll be glad Sheriff Neville is on the job.”

Leo shook his head. “Oh, Emma, the Toliver gang hasn’t been to these parts in months.”

Rory squinted up at him. “I’ll bet ol’ Neville wishes they’d come this way. Maybe he could have got a book writ about him, too.”

“Don’t be silly,” Emma said. “That Leyton Lawrence isn’t real.”

Leo shrugged. “You wouldn’t know it by the way these books sell. I can’t keep them on the shelves. Everybody wants to read about the next adventure of the Legendary Lawman. You ever read these things, Jess?”

Jess eyed the book, then blew out a heavy breath. “Read them? No.”

“Ol’ Sheriff Neville does—I’ll guarantee it.” Rory laughed again.

“I need some supplies, Leo.” Jess passed the dime novel back to him.

“Sure thing. Your sister ran an account with me.

You want me to add it to hers?”

Jess caught Emma’s disapproving glare. He shook his head. “No, I’ll pay cash. Did Cassie owe you anything?”

Leo waved him away. “Nothing worth mentioning.” ,

“I want to make it. right.”

Jess ordered his supplies and paid for them, including Cassie’s tab, and made arrangements to pick them up later on the way out of town.

“See you later, boy,” Rory called. “And watch out for that Legendary Lawman.”

Jess chuckled as he guided Jimmy but of the mercantile ahead of him. That laugh caught in his throat, though, as Alma Garrette stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of him.

“Morning, Mrs. Garrotte.” Jess tipped his hat.

She bristled. “I’didn’t see you at services on Sunday. Everybody wanted to know why. Your sister always brought the children to services, you know.”

He hadn’t felt like praying lately, and certainly not in this town where he knew everyone would stare a hole through him if he walked into the church.

Alma bent and pulled Jimmy closer. “Now, let’s have a look at you.” She tugged at his clothes and peered behind his ears. “Thin, mighty thin. And in need of a good scrubbing, too. Did you let him bathe himself?”

Jess frowned. Was he supposed to wash the boy? He’d set out soap and a pan of water for him in the kitchen, wasn’t that enough?

“Humph! I thought so.” Alma’s lips drew together in a tight pucker. “The good people of Walker aren’t going to stand by and let your sister’s children fall to ruin, Jess Logan. You best remember that.”

She pushed past him and into the mercantile. Through the window, Jess saw her huddled together with Emma Turner. He knew they were talking about him.

Well, damned if he cared. Jess strode off down the street, a knot hardening in his belly.

“Those two old biddies can talk all they want,” Jess said to Jimmy. “They made up their minds about me, anyway. A long time ago.”

As they passed the Green Garter Saloon a hand reached out. Jess spun around and grabbed his Colt Peacemaker on his thigh.

“Whoa, there!” The saloon keeper threw up both hands and laughed heartily. “Pretty fast on the draw. I guess what they said about you is true, Jess.”

He relaxed marginally and glared at the barrelchested man with the bushy mustache.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, after all that liquor I slipped you and Nate when you were kids.”

“Saul?”

He laughed again and patted his round belly. “That’s right. Come on inside and have a drink.”

Jess holstered his gun and nodded toward Jimmy. “I got the boy here.”

“Won’t take a minute. Sit over here, son.” Saul pointed to the wooden bench alongside the saloon and urged Jess inside. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”

Jess looked back over his shoulder at Jimmy swinging his feet, still eating licorice. “You stay put.”

A couple of men sat in the corner, but Jess didn’t recognize them. More new faces in the town he used to call home. He edged up to the bar.

“Bring back some memories?” Saul slid him a beer.

Jess looked at the faded picture over Saul’s head, the dusty shelves and the scarred floor. “Nothing much has changed.”

“Seen the Vernon brothers since you’ve been back?”

“Are they still around?”

“Shoot, yeah. And you’ll be glad to know they ain’t changed a whit.” Saul leaned his elbows on the bar. “Remember the time you and the Tompkins boy got drunk—well, hell, I guess you weren’t ever in the place that you weren’t drunk—and you climbed up on the bar here and shot out the lights in the store across the street. Then the two of you took off out of here when the sheriff came in, and ran smack into Mrs. Murray and knocked her right into the horse trough. Lordy, I thought I’d bust a gut laughing.”

Jess leaned on the bar and chuckled at the memory. “How is old Mrs. Murray, anyway?”

Saul’s face grew solemn. “She passed away a couple of years back.”

Jess averted his eyes and sipped his beer.

“Sorry to hear about your sister. She was a good woman, teaching at the school, fending for herself and those kids all alone. Everybody in town thought the world of her.” Saul laughed again and chucked Jess on the arm. “Fact is, couldn’t nobody figure how she ended up with a no-account fellow like you for a brother.”

Jess shifted uncomfortably and drained his glass. “I got to be on my way, Saul. Thanks for the beer.” He . tossed coins on the bar.

“keep your money.” Saul pushed the coins back at him. “Having you in town again is going to send my profits right through the roof!”

Jess pulled his Stetson lower on his forehead and left the bar, sucking in a big gulp of fresh air. Somehow, being in the Green Garter again seemed stifling.

The crowd on the street had picked up some. It was nearly noon and his belly reminded him of the meager breakfast he’d had; he’d lost most of his appetite cleaning strawberry jam off the table, chair, floor, Jimmy and himself.

He motioned to the child still seated on the bench. “Let’s go eat.”

With no desire to run into anyone else who remembered him, Jess chose the Blue Jay Cafe. It looked crowded and that was a good sign, so he went in and took a seat in the corner.

“Nice place,” he said to Jimmy as the boy climbed into the chair across from him. Jess looked around at the clean, orderly restaurant. “Don’t recall the last time I ate on a tablecloth.”

Jimmy squirmed onto his knees and said nothing.

Jess laid his Stetson on the chair beside him as the serving girl headed his way. A pretty woman, he decided, though he wasn’t usually partial to blondes. He preferred dark-haired women, with equally dark eyes. Round, soft women. Women like Sarah Wakefield. Now, there was a woman who could—

Jess plowed both hands through his hair. What was he doing, having such thoughts? About a teacher, no less. A prim and proper teacher.

His belly warmed suddenly, reminding him of the weeks he’d spent on the trail getting to Walker. Weeks of hard riding, with no stops for taking care of life’s necessary pleasures. He wondered if Miss Flora still had her parlor house at the edge of town. He needed to pay her a call soon. Real soon.

“What are you two gents wanting today?”

The soft, feminine voice caused Jess to jump and he looked up at the blond woman standing over his table; for a moment he imagined she could look straight through him and see what he really wanted. She was shapely, maybe twenty-three, and had a pretty smile.

“Jimmy likes the chicken.” She smiled down at him and tickled the boy’s chin. “You must be Cassie’s brother. I’m Kirby Sullivan. Welcome to Walker.”

She was the first person to utter those three words to him, and they sounded good. Jess got to his feet and introduced himself; he accepted her condolences when she offered her sorrow over his sister’s death.

“Jimmy used to stay with us while Cassie taught school. I live just down the road from the schoolhouse with my folks. We miss having Jimmy around.” Kirby fluffed the boy’s hair and he pulled away. “Nate told me you two used to be friends.”

“You know Nate Tompkins?”

“Sure. You ought to stop by and see him while you’re in town. He’s at the jail.”

Jess chuckled. “Jail, huh? That figures.”

Kirby smiled gently. “Nate’s the deputy sheriff.”

“Nate? The deputy? Well, damn....” Jess shook his head. “I guess a lot of things really have changed in Walker.”

“Yes, and no one more than my Nate.” An easy smile crossed her face. “So, what do you say? How about the chicken plate?”

“Sounds good.” Jess eased into his chair and watched as Kirby disappeared into the kitchen. How could a worthless bastard like Nate Tompkins have gotten a fine-looking woman like her? His belly heated up again.

Trying to distract his thoughts, Jess turned back to Jimmy. “So, you like chicken, huh?”

Jimmy ignored him and fiddled with the silverware.

“I’ll bet your mama used to make the best chicken in the state. Even when we were kids, she was a good cook.”

Jimmy folded his hands on the table and laid his head down.

Jess sighed. “Come on, Jimmy. Talk to me.”

The boy looked up suddenly and stuck out his tongue.

Stunned, he felt a laugh slip out. “Well, I guess that’s a start,” Jess said.

A few minutes later when the food was served, Jess ate hungrily, satisfying at least one of his suddenly pressing needs. The food tasted delicious, a far sight better than his own cooking. He finished off his own plate and the remains of Jimmy’s, plus a thick wedge of apple pie and two cups of coffee.

“You might want to bring Jimmy over to the church. My papa preaches there. We always have children’s Bible study on Thursday nights.” Kirby took away their plates. “Bring Maggie, too.”

Jess rocked back in his chair and patted his belly. “I’ll see—Holy Jesus!”

He surged from the chair, nearly knocking the dishes from Kirby’s tray. Maggie. He’d forgotten Maggie’s lunch pail this morning. He’d been in such a rush it had completely slipped his mind. And surely this time that Mrs. Wakefield would go straight to the school board.

Kirby gasped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Jess pulled at his neck. “I just thought of something else I need. Could you box up some food? Chicken, bread, maybe?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“No—yes.”

Jess drew in a deep breath. Yes, he needed something else, something that would appease a certain schoolmarm. And he knew exactly what it would be.

Chapter Three

Damn. He was too late.

A few children still sat at the benches, but most played in the schoolyard. Girls jumped rope while several boys shot marbles in the dirt. Other children ran squealing around the schoolhouse while a few older ones huddled under the shade of the elms. Jess clutched the box lunch as he crossed the schoolyard looking for Maggie. Finally he spotted her standing beside Mrs. Wakefield. Of course.

Jess pulled his Stetson lower and sucked in a deep breath. “Hi, honey. I brought you something special.”

“Uncle Jess!”

He gave her a hug and passed her the box. “I wanted to surprise you. Sorry I’m a little late. I didn’t think your teacher would have you eating so early.” He felt Sarah glare at him but he refused to look at her.

“Thanks, Uncle Jess.”

“I brought something for your teacher, too.” He pulled out a big, red apple and presented it to Sarah.

“Come on, Jimmy. You can eat with me.”

“There’s cookies in there. Enough for the both of you,” he called as Maggie headed for the tables at the side of the schoolhouse.

He watched the two children, determined not to acknowledge Sarah Wakefield standing three feet from him. She could stare at him until her eyes crossed, if that’s what she wanted to do.

The breeze shifted and a delicate scent tantalized his nose, winding its way inside him. His gaze came up quickly and settled on Sarah. Good God, was it her that smelled so sweet?

But that expression of hers wasn’t sweet at all. She didn’t buy the special meal excuse, not for a minute. And the apple hadn’t helped at all.